Weekday lunch time is hard. I bring food stuffs to work, mostly fruit, fresh veggies to nosh, veggies to put together a salad, crackers, tortilla chips, salsa, yogurt (had my first taste of Greek yogurt yesterday), and now and again deli meat (turkey, usually) and cheese for sandwiches.
I try to mix it up, keep it fresh, a constant rotation. But still, tiresome.
It becomes tiresome after awhile. Sometimes I crave heat, not heat as in spicy I can chomp on a pepper for that. But, I want hot food. Oh sure there is a microwave and I can heat soups, stews, chili, or other leftovers from home, but even that, yeah can becomes tiresome. I want hot food prepared fresh, made to order, or at least there waiting for my order.
You know, like a big, thick, juicy, burger with mushrooms, bleu cheese crumbles, onions, and of course, a side of fried potatoes. Or deep-fried chicken. Or enchiladas. Or lasagna. Or any of a thousand choices for lunch within a 10 block radius of where I work.
I walk at lunch time and I walk by many of them. American, Indian, Italian, Asian, Mexican, Greek, all that and more are represented in this neighborhood. The aromas can be dizzying.
And then there is the chocolate. I don’t know exactly where the chocolate factory is located, not in the immediate area, as far as I’ve surveyed, but you can smell ‘em brewing the stuff up. Some days, when the wind is just right, well, let’s just say I’m glad the chocolate café moved away several months ago.
Most days I’m able to resist, for not only am I fighting the battle of the bulge but I’m also
But it is hard.